Bart wandered from the campus and left the vicinity of the college. He walked by himself through the streets, thinking of these things. With his mind thus occupied, he gave little thought to the direction he was taking. In time he came round into Church Street, and he was barely in time to see Merriwell assisting a young lady onto a car.
Hodge stopped. His heart had leaped into his throat, for he recognized the girl. Even then he brushed his hand over his eyes, as if in doubt. It did not seem possible that Elsie Bellwood could be there in New Haven without his knowledge.
He had not seen the elderly lady Frank aided onto the car in advance of Elsie. He saw nothing but Elsie.
Then he made a single step, as if to dash forward. Elsie turned and spoke something to Frank in a low tone, giving him a sweet smile, and Bart stopped as if shot. That smile seemed to strike straight through the heart of Bart Hodge. He would have given the world to have her smile on him like that.
The horrible conviction that she still loved Frankseized upon him. The whole affair was very remarkable, to say the least.
How had Frank known she was there in New Haven? Bart told himself that Merry must have known it, else why had he left the campus to meet her? It did not occur to Hodge that the meeting had been by accident. He knew nothing of the runaway. He believed Elsie had sent Merriwell word that she was coming to New Haven, and he had met her by appointment.
A terrible feeling of jealous rage took possession of him as he hurried away. That feeling, which was like a terrible, crushing pain in his bosom, drove reason and sober thought from him. For the time he was a furious fool in the grasp of the fiercest passion that can sway a human being—a passion that has overthrown empires. Oh, the terrible things he told himself! He strode on and on, his face black as midnight, his heart in a wild tumult.
How he hated Merriwell now! At last he felt that he knew Frank Merriwell’s one weak point. Merriwell was deceiving both Elsie and Inza! Even now that he had proposed to Inza and been accepted, he was not satisfied to give Elsie up.
But Merry had deceived him; Bart told himself that over and over. He had slipped away from the rollicking seniors that he might keep the appointment withElsie unknown to Hodge. Was not that a wretched trick?
All the old hatred he had once entertained for Frank, renewed and redoubled by his jealousy, swayed him now. He felt that he could kill Merriwell without a feeling of remorse. Why not? Was not Frank deceiving Elsie? And a wretch who would deceive her deserved death!
Bart knew that Elsie trusted Frank implicitly. She believed him the soul of honor, and the thought that he could deceive her in any way had never for a moment entered her mind. But he was deceiving her! Why was he doing it? Was it possible that he had grown sorry because of his proposal to Inza? Was it possible that he thought of giving Inza up and turning to Elsie?
Hodge asked himself these questions as he swung along, coming into Whitney Avenue. Away he went to the north, covering the ground with great speed, seeking to walk off the terrible feeling that possessed him.
At last he came to the outskirts of the city. To the right lay East Rock Park; ahead was Lake Whitney. Bart felt like losing himself somewhere in the country and not returning to college. He did not wish to look on Merriwell’s face again. Always he had seen honesty and frankness there; but now he felt that hewould be able to detect deceit and treachery lurking somewhere about it.
Deceit and treachery in Frank Merriwell! That meant that the Merriwell he had known in the past was dead!
Bart tired of the highway. He longed to plunge into the woods, and he struck across some fields toward a distant grove, into which he made his way. There he felt that he would be quite alone, but he was mistaken. In the midst of the grove he found a lodgelike house, the doors of which were standing open. Near this house, in the grove, a large, broad-shouldered, muscular-looking man stood contemplating a large stone on the ground at his feet. His hat, coat, and vest were off, and his sleeves were thrust back, showing a massive forearm.
Bart paused to look at the man, admiring his Herculean build. Then the man looked up, as if he had known all the time that Bart was there, and called to him.
“Come here,” commanded the stranger, in a heavy voice. “I have something to show you.”
With his curiosity strangely aroused, Bart advanced.
“What is it?” he asked, as he paused near the man.
“Do you see that stone?”
The man pointed at the large rock at his feet.
“Yes.”
“Do you know how much it weighs?”
“No.”
“Do you think you can lift it?”
“I doubt it.”
“I’d like to see you try it.”
Hodge wondered at the peculiar manner of the man.
“Why should I try to lift it?” he asked wonderingly.
“Oh, just to show how strong you are.”
“I don’t want to show how strong I am.”
“Well, I want to show you how strong I am.”
“Go ahead.”
“I cannot, unless you take hold of that rock and convince yourself that it is heavy. When you have done that, I will show you how light it is.”
Possessed by a sudden impulse, Bart stooped and took hold of the stone. But try as he might, he could not lift it from the ground.
With a strange smile on his face, the muscular giant of the grove watched Bart’s unavailing efforts.
“Ha, ha!” he laughed. “It is heavy, isn’t it?”
“Rather,” admitted Bart, as he straightened up. “It must weigh half a ton.”
“As much as that,” nodded the man.
“You knew I could not lift it.”
“I can.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“I do not believe you can budge it.”
“You shall see.”
Then the man bent his broad back, obtained a hold on the stone with his hands, and, to the astonishment of Hodge, lifted it fully two feet from the ground with no great apparent effort.
“What do you think now?” he cried triumphantly, as he let it drop.
“I think it is remarkable!” exclaimed Hodge, looking at the man in wondering admiration.
“I knew you would,” said the stranger, with a show of satisfaction. “Can you keep a secret?”
“I believe so.”
“Then I will tell you something.”
“Go on.”
“I am the strongest man in the world!”
These words were spoken with perfect seriousness, as if the one who uttered them believed them fully.
“Are you?” asked Bart, beginning to feel that there was something very peculiar about this man.
“Yes. You are the only one besides myself who knows it. I decided to tell you as soon as I saw you.”
“Do you live here?” asked Bart, looking toward the lodge and seeking to turn the subject.
“Oh, no; I only come here to get strong. I had this hut built here for that purpose.”
“Do you live near here?”
“Yes; this is my property all around here. I have discovered the secret of becoming strong. Although I am now the strongest man in the world, I shall keep right on getting stronger. The time will come when I’ll be stronger than a hundred men combined.”
Now, Bart understood that there must be something the matter with the man’s mind, although he had little the appearance of a lunatic.
“I have let no one know why I come here to this place at a certain hour every day,” the stranger went on. “I knew they would laugh at me, and it makes me angry when any one laughs at me. Don’t laugh, young man! I am very disagreeable when I am angry.”
Bart had no thought of laughing.
“This is a pretty place,” he observed.
“It’s quiet and secluded,” nodded the man; “yet it is so near the house that I can easily hear them when they ring the bell for me. They think I come here to study medicine. Why, I completed the study of medicine long ago. I let them think that, however, for they would not understand if they knew what I was really studying. Any man who knows the secret may become strong if he is willing to shorten his life. You look surprised. I will explain. In order to acquire my present amount of strength, I have been compelled to boil down and concentrate the strength of several years into one year, and my life has been shortenedjust that much. But it is a glorious thing to know that I am the strongest man in the world. I am bound to become famous, and almost any man is willing to sacrifice a few years of life in order to win enduring fame. Perhaps you think my fame will not endure, but you are wrong. The fame of Samson has endured, and I shall become even stronger than Samson. I know the secret that Samson knew. It did not lay in his hair. What fools they were to think so! But I know the secret. It will take a little time for me to condense all the strength of years to come in one year, but I shall succeed, and then I’ll astound the world. With ease I’ll be able to pick up a horse and fling it over my head, as if it were light as a cat. I’ll have the power to topple over houses as if they were built of cards. I will——”
A voice sounded through the grove, calling:
“Doctor Lincoln! Doctor Lincoln!”
Bart started, and listened in amazement.
“Doctor Lincoln! Doctor Lincoln!” called the voice.
It was that of Elsie Bellwood, and he saw her coming toward him along a path through the grove.